Elune's Grace
by Dark-Elk
Summary: A fallen Warden turned mercernary, bearing a most interesting surname. Chapter 1: That Which is Broken. Read and review if you can!


Elune's Grace

Chapter 1: That Which Is Broken

By: Dark-Elk

Author's Note: It's been a while, Let's see if I can still do this anymore. Reviews are, as always, appreciated. This is set roughly post Frozen Throne. Never played WoW, so if I contradict any of that (Which I likely will), please don't stab me. As always, Warcraft is Blizzard's property.

\--/

_For the Goddess_, I thought bitterly. I shifted slightly from my crouched position atop a tree limb, peering down at the twisted dirt path below. A cluster of dead leaves skidded silently across the ground, their mere presence proof of the coming darkness for my people. If the World Tree were still alive, the trees would not be aging, nor would I.

I turned quickly, my eyes studying the far end of the path that ran into the dark forest. I had always thought of forests as happy places, filled with life and enchantment. Now though, they seem to be only harbingers of death, a silent lament for my dying people.

Were it not for the loss of my immortality, I wouldn't be doing this. I was a Warden, one of the elite Sentinels that kept order in our society: respected, strong, and proud. Now who am I?

"The path curves some up ahead," a loud human voice called out. "Keep the wagon steady!"

"Worry 'bout yourself!" another human called back, his voice noticeably slurred. "These woods give me the creeps."

_Ironic_, I thought. A mere year or two ago, I would have scoffed at the human's statement; the trees had nurtured the Night Elves for as long as living memory recalled, and even before. I agreed with the human now, though; the forest seemed…sinister.

I watched silently as the large, cloth covered wagon lurched around a curve, the human on it seeming more than slightly fond of the drink in his flask. In front of the wagon, a blond-haired youth was riding atop a dark gray horse, his pace a slow canter. My eyes noted the lack of armaments on the driver, though the boy was carrying a sheath that might hold a short sword.

I grabbed the blade that was sitting on the branch next to me and leapt nimbly from the tree, landing in front of the boy horseman. His horse stopped and reared back slightly at the sight of me. I couldn't blame the beast; my armor and helmet shining fiercely in the noontime sunlight were undoubtedly an imposing sight.

"Who are you?" the boy called as he steadied his horse. His hand stole quickly to the sheath at his side, and he beckoned for the wagon behind him to stop. The driver seemed sobered by my appearance, and pulled hard on the reins of the mules pulling the wagon, skidding to a stop.

_I was the Iron Hand of justice_, I thought. I hefted the blade in my hand and glanced up at the boy. Meeting his eyes briefly, I looked away in shame as I swung the blade, neatly removing the horse's front legs. Blood began flowing on the ground as the beast fell over onto its side, the weight crushing one of the boy's legs. I walked around the dying horse to the trapped human. His eyes were clenched shut, his face streaked with tears of pain as he tried vainly to free his limb. He opened his eyes widely as I moved into his field of view.

"Don't kill me!" he gasped as he continued pulling on his leg. I heard a sickening snap, presumably another bone giving way. The boy screamed out in agony, his voice cracking as it hit the limits of human vocal cords. He stopped abruptly, choking off another scream with a sob.

Not answering him, I raised my blade again and swung, separating his head from his neck in a clean blow. Blood surged from his neck as the boy's body stopped moving, and a moment later so did the horse. I looked over to the man sitting on the wagon, somewhat surprised to see him still there in spite of the scene before him.

"Make it fast, elf whore," the man slurred out, and pulled another drink from his flask.

Bowing my head slightly to him, I walked quickly over to him. My blade in hand, covered with the rapidly drying blood of the horse and of the young man, I met the wagon tender's eyes, and though they were clouded from his drink, it was little effort to see the abject hatred in them.

"Burn in hell!" the man yelled out, hurling his bottle at me. I raised one hand, blocking the projectile with my forearm. The bottle shattered, a wash of cheap, noxious ale spraying over my face and helmet. I swung the blade in my hand, decapitating the human easily. His head rolled back onto the cover of the wagon, and his body slumped forward before sliding off the wagon and collapsing on the ground. The mules hitched to the wagon stirred uneasily, and I placed my hand on the back of one to comfort it. Looking at the ropes that held them, I spotted the metal ring that was holding them all in place. A quick slash from my blade split the ropes, and I watched in grim satisfaction as the mules stepped forward out of the harness and sauntered up into the woods.

_Who am I?_ I asked myself again. _I'm a mercenary. How odd it is to be the same filth I used to hunt._

\--/

I favored the "Rising Sun" tavern with a dark glare as I stood outside. A cool night had fallen during my return to the town nearby, and the tavern was filled with a noisy array of patrons; even in these troubled times, ale was apparently always a comfort. _Buffoons_, I thought as I looked up into the night sky. The moon was hidden by a cluster of clouds, and my wandering mind wondered if it was the Goddess, hiding her face from me. I shrugged and wrapped my dark cloak closer around me, guarding me from the chill of the night. _I might as well get this over with_.

My hand found the door handle, and I slowly pushed the heavy wooden door open. An uproarious wave of laughter assaulted my ears as I stepped into the tavern; the patrons seemed to be engaged in some sort of drinking game, and as I watched disdainfully, one of them was stumbling around, crashing into other people and tables, knocking drinks over as he went.

One of the men at the counter turned to the door, and with a voice barely loud enough to be heard over the din, said, "It's an elf girl!" Immediately, everyone at the counter turned towards me as a hush fell over the tavern, and I drew my cloak around me again, not wanting to give the cretins a look at my body. I've heard many a tale of elven women being assaulted by boorish humans, and though I have no fears as to how I'd fare against one of them, I didn't need any trouble. My eyes scanned past the crowd to the back corners of the tavern and spotted whom I needed to meet. I made my way through the tilted tables and chairs, and as I turned my back to the men, their laughter started again.

"You're late," the person seated at the small table said as I approached him. "I hope you didn't have any trouble."

I shook my head slightly as I sat down at the table. The man's face was covered by a swatch of crimson cloth, and he was garbed in a black cloak that hid a suit of elegantly crafted mail. A pair of tall, pink ears stood out on the sides of his head, marking him as an elf, though he was one of the High Born rather than a Night Elf. His eyes were his most startling quality, though; the only part of his face uncovered, and they burned with azure fire.

"Excellent, Warden Shadowsong," the elf said.

"I told you not to call me Warden," I said testily. "I gave up that right."

The elf tilted his head mockingly, as though in a bow of respect, and said, "Forgive me, Night Elf. Do you have the package?"

I reached inside my cloak and pulled out a burlap wrapped package, a length of twine holding it together. I turned it over in my hands once, wondering what was held within its simple wrappings, and then I shrugged as I handed it over to him. "Take it."

The elf turned it over in his hands as well, undoubtedly checking to make sure none of the wrappings had been tampered with. He laid his hand on the front of the package and his eyes closed. Magic symbols flared to life on the sides, undoubtedly hidden means of protection. He lifted his hand, opened his eyes, and gave me a broad smile. "It seems to be in order. Your payment is as we agreed." He reached inside a gunnysack sitting at his feet under the table and pulled out a smaller bag and tossed it lightly to me. "It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Shadowsong."

"I'm sure," I replied quietly. I peered inside the bag to confirm its contents, and then slid it inside a snug pocket of my cloak.

"I have other work for you. There's always more work," he said, matter-of-factly. "That little bauble won't sustain you for long, I'm sure. When you need more, come find me." With that said, he stood and grabbed his gunnysack, and walked away through the jumbled maze of broken furniture.

I withdrew the bag from my cloak, wanting to look at its contents again. My hand reached inside the small pocket, trembling slightly as it pulled out a small, clear blue stone. I held it up to the dim candlelight, and sighed in satisfaction as I caught a glimpse of the burning blue fires within.

"Sold out, did you?"

I looked up, startled out of my examination. Standing in front of me was a dwarf with a long, plaited red beard. His back bore a mighty war axe, but his hands carried two tankards of ale. He sat where the elf had been seated moments before, and slid one of the tall mugs across to me. "Drink up. It's not poisoned. Wouldn't waste good ale that way."

I smiled slightly and slid the tankard aside.

"Your choice," he said in between gulping mouthfuls of the ale. "Probably have more of a fancy for that mana stone there, don't you?"

"What do you know?" I asked the dwarf curiously.

"You're not the only Night Elf mercenary 'round these parts, and you're not the only one selling her services for a fix of mana. Since your World Tree was destroyed, it's becoming more common."

I blushed slightly and looked away from the dwarf before I answered him. "You don't know how it is."

"I think I summed it up pretty good there, lass. Or did you enjoy killing the humans that guarded the convoy?"

I snorted and picked up the tankard he had brought. I sniffed the ale cautiously before taking a drink of it. "I was a Warden, dwarf. If you knew anything about my race, you wouldn't need to ask."

"'Tis true," the dwarf agreed. "Did it for the mana, though?"

I nodded slowly. "You don't know how it is to be like I am now."

"Not aging's gotta be a nasty thing to lose, I'm sure. Wouldn't know though," the dwarf said before he took another swig. "'Least you had it for a while. Most folks never even get that."

"I know. I don't understand how your lives can hold any meaning when they're all so short," I said with a snort.

The dwarf looked at me cynically. "Coming from a lass who just killed an innocent boy and his uncle, not to mention their steed? All just to fulfill her mana addiction so she doesn't have to die?"

"You don't know how it is!" I shot back at him, my hand slamming the tankard down on the table, not noticing as the contents splashed out onto my hand. I stood quickly, walked away from the table to the entrance, and flung the door open. Giving the dwarf a final glare laced with vitriol, I stormed out into the darkness, slamming the door behind me.

_Idiot dwarf,_ I thought to myself as I stood outside the door, the laughter inside still echoing through the door. _He could never understand_.

\--/

_Too quiet_.

The forest was almost completely silent, and the only audible sounds were those of the night winds whipping through the dying trees, and the clots of leaves being carried along in their wake. None of the night creatures were making any noise. Of all the hundred years I've lived, never have I known such silence in a forest. _Is it a sign of the times, of the world moving on?_

My feet continued to travel down the well-worn path, one not unlike the one I'd been on earlier. I had cinched my cloak around my neck with my Sentinel brooch, one of the last few small tokens of my life that I still carried with me. My weapon and my armor were the only other possessions I had…and the mana stone. Even the thought of the powerful sapphire energies contained within was enough to both simultaneously lighten and darken my spirits.

A cracking tree branch to my right made me pause my trek, my ears and eyes alertly scanning the darkness. I have never fully mastered the ability to see in the dark as some Night Elves can, but I still managed to pick out a pair of glowing crimson eyes owned by someone leaning against one of the trees. My hand stole for my blade, clenching it firmly.

I waited for the person to speak, though I wasn't surprised when the figure didn't. Finally my patience wore thin, and I loudly called out, "Show yourself!"

My words echoed in the dark forest as I stood there waiting for a reply. The figure continued staring silently at me, and I shivered in spite of myself. The creature felt malevolent…unholy.

"You are the elf Warden Kurai Shadowsong?"

His voice was warm and friendly, instantly raising my suspicions. In my many years of experience as a Warden, and my more recent years spent as a mercenary, I have found evil to often be accompanied by a silver tongue. "Why is my name any more important than yours?" I retorted.

"You are indeed the elf," the man said as he turned more towards me, giving me an even greater view of the burning rubies that were his eyes. "Your voice and your manner give it away all too easily."

"So what if I am?" I asked him warily, the blade still gripped firmly in my hand. Was it someone retaliating for my attack on the wagon?

"I have work for you."

"I'm listening," I responded, against my better judgment.

"There is an elf I need you to hunt down. One of the High Born," the man said. "Do this for me, and I will provide you with the means to regain your immortality."

My eyes opened wider in shock as I considered his offer, my mind hardly able to fathom the amount of mana I would recieve. "How do I know you are not lying?"

"You don't. You can take the job and trust me, or you can disbelieve me and turn down reclaiming your immortality. The choice is yours."

_Not a choice at all. _"I'll need information."

I heard a quiet rustling sound from nearby the man, and then an object came hurtling at me from his direction. I ducked instinctively, reaching my hands out to grab it as I knelt. My hands latched onto a scroll wrapped in a thin sheet of parchment. I glanced at it briefly, and then looked up at the man. I quickly stood, disturbed by the realization that my posture had made me seem as though I was kneeling before him.

"All you need know is there. Kill him, and I will know when you have done so. Return here afterwards," he said, and then added, "Do not fail." The burning embers of his eyes slowly faded into the darkness, and finally only their image remained seared in my mind.

I slept poorly that evening, though I wasn't sure whether it was because of my attack upon the convoy, my conversation with the dwarf, or meeting the mysterious stranger in the woods that was preying on my mind most. I awoke to find the moon beginning to fall from the sky, and as I stood, I stretched my arms over my head and then proceeded to stretch out my legs. My aging was beginning to show ever so slightly in my joints, and if I failed to stretch them out, I would feel their protests the entire day.

A moon well would solve these pains…I thought idly as I remembered the fragrant, cool waters, and the relaxation and healing that was found within. Too bad I won't see one again in my lifetime. My family had seen to that; they had seen me banished from our realms in a way few Night Elves ever had been, and none in living memory. 

_Living memory_, I mused. _Soon living memory will mean very little for my people, though perhaps not for me…_

If he did, I would kill him, though not without a certain measure of remorse. Such an amount of mana as he was offering would be a great loss to me. The mere thought of such a cache was enough to make me want to get this task finished, and soon. I gathered my few meager possessions, swung my cloak around my shoulders, and stepped onto the dirt path, my feet moving forward effortlessly as the stars slowly began fading from the morning sky.

\--/

I found my latest target seated atop a white horse at a crossroads as he studied the posted signs. It seemed entirely too simple, and I started to doubt the information the man had given me, but as I neared the High Elf who was my target, I could make out an intricate insignia stitched into the back of his blood red cloak. The parchment had a crude sketch of the sigul, explaining it as a family crest of sorts, like those found among humans.

He heard me approach easily; against another elf, even all the stealth in the world wouldn't do me anything, and it was broad daylight. His hands tugged the reins to the left, turning his mount to face me, his face betraying his surprise as he saw me. "Warden Shadowsong? Do you need more work already?" he asked, a broad grin replacing his surprise.

My heart fell through my chest. It was the High Elf who had hired me to slay the convoy and given me the mana stone. I tried to speak, to answer him in some way, but words escaped me, and I kept my mouth closed instead.

"You do burn through mana stones at quite the rate, don't you? I do have more work, though, jobs only one of such an esteemed lineage and unique talents could perform. Shall we discuss them?" he offered, motioning to the side of the road. "It would probably be best if we cleared the road, though." I nodded, still mute, and began to walk over to where he had pointed, his horse trotting slowly beside me.

As soon as his horse was off the road, he slid smoothly off it and tied it to a tree next to him. He walked around the side of his mount and asked, "I am curious, though…how did you manage to locate me? I wasn't aware anyone knew where I was headed."

My throat finally cleared, and I managed to respond this time. "I had sources," I said simply.

The elf nodded. "You would, in your line of work. Still, this is quite soon for you to need another mana stone. Unless, of course, you've come to kill me," he said with a laugh.

My hand fell to my blade, my voice silent.

"So that's it, is it? Someone else managed to divert your services away from me, eh? Well, but I'm sure I can offer you enough compensation to make you…shall we say, counter their offer?" He reached into his cloak, pausing as I raised my blade and pressed it against his throat.

"Come now, Warden Shadowsong! We have a profitable history between us, don't we? Do you really want to throw that all away?" he stammered.

"I told you not to call me Warden anymore," I said quietly, moving my blade forward slightly. A trickle of blood ran down the side of my blade, and down the elf's neck. "A Warden wouldn't do this."

"But I'm sure we can come to an arrangement! Anything whoever hired you offered, I'll double it! Triple it, even!" he said frantically, something flashing in his eyes. One of his hands darted up to shove my blade away from his neck, his other grabbing a long, twisted dagger from his side and thrusting at me with it. I blocked his stab easily, along with his next few attempts. Finally, one of his attacks stabbed into the small crevice between my chest plate and my shoulder armor, biting into my flesh. I hissed quietly in pain as the elf backed up, roaring in triumph.

I charged forward, surprising the High-born again, and swung my blade savagely across his chest. He flew backwards from the impact of the blow on his body armor, skidding on the ground slightly. His eyes fluttered weakly a few times before they closed.

I pulled back my foot slightly, kicking the man hard in his leg and stomach. When the man didn't respond, I knelt next to him, drawing a small poisoned dagger from inside my cloak. Steeling my nerves, I thought, _For the Goddess_, but then I paused. Elune wouldn't want such crimes in her name. _For myself,_ I thought bitterly, baring the truth. I was killing this man so that I could live; I may as well have been feeding directly off the blood I was about to spill.

The thoughts didn't stay my hand, though; the dagger sank easily into the elf's neck, his blood bubbling up around the blade as the elf struggled to breathe. I slid the dagger slightly to the side, opening a gaping wound in his neck, allowing his blood to flow forth and spill onto the ground. The elf's eyes opened slightly, staring deeply into mine. He took a last, shuddering breath, and then his eyes closed again, and his chest stopped heaving.

I pulled the blade from his neck and looked at it with disgust before I threw it into the woods. _Let the dying have a murderer's weapon_, I thought. I reached into the man's cloak and pulled from inside a small pouch of some gold coins, another azure mana stone, and finally the package I had given him only days before. Just as the High Elf had in the tavern, I pressed my hand to it, nodding slightly as the runes burst to life again.

So many deaths for this small package already. 

I stood up, slid the package into my cloak, and walked away from the elf's body, leaving the coins and mana stone to glitter in the sunlight.

\--/

"The elf is dead."

My unflinching gaze met the burning embers that were the eyes of my employer as we once again stood in the darkness of the forest. An eerie sense of déjà vu pervaded our second meeting, for it seemed as though he was standing in the same place as before, as was I.

"Do you have the package he was carrying?" he asked me.

I nodded slightly, and tossed the package to him. A gauntleted hand grabbed the small package out of the air. "Now, where is the mana you spoke of?" I asked bluntly. "I didn't just kill an innocent man for nothing."

"Indeed, you did not," the figure said with a slight laugh. Though his voice still sounded like silk, his laugh was noticeably malevolent. "You killed him because of your greed. It consumes you."

"I didn't ask for your judgment," I retorted. "My motives are my own. Give me the mana."

"You are persistent," he stated. "Such a trait will serve you well."

A few twigs cracked under his weight as he moved forward towards the path, and I stepped involuntarily back. Suddenly my assessment of this man as evil seemed more and more apt. I shifted my hands that were holding my blade, perspiration making the handle slippery in my palms. _When was the last time I sweated in fear?_ I wondered. _Have I ever?_

As the man stepped onto the path, he reached back with one arm and grasped a branch on a tree standing nearby. A sharp twist of his wrist snapped the branch loose. My eyes flashed slightly as I felt a feeling akin to rage build in my body; the trees were already dying, and this evil man sought to expedite their death? More and more I wanted nothing to do with him, but he brandished the tree limb in front of me as he stopped a few feet away from me. _Does he mean to attack me with this tree branch? _I thought crazily. _Surely he sees my blade and my armor._

"Tak."

The end of the branch burst into a cold, blue flame as he intoned what I assumed to be a short spell, the light serving to illuminate his body, though his face was covered and shaded by a cowl. His body was encased in what seemed to be heavy black plate mail, and a massive sword hung across his back.

"Your payment is here, Warden," he said as he raised his cowl and reached into a black leather pouch that hung at his side. My eyes tracked the movement of his hand, my body tensing in case he was withdrawing a small weapon of some sort. When his hand pulled out empty, I looked up at his face, and nearly fainted at the sight.

_An undead_.

An unholy crimson flame had replaced his eyes, and his skin had a dull, ashen pallor. His long white hair with a few strands of black hung stringy and unkempt across his brow, and his mouth was slackened in an evil grin, his teeth discolored and decayed from his undeath. A foul stench was pervading the air around him…_how did I miss that before?_

The answer was obvious: my greed for mana had blinded me.

I took another step backwards and raised my blade, though for the first time since my days in training, I was dismayed to see the end of it waggling uncertainly, displaying my fear to the abomination. "Get away from me," I threatened. "I don't want anything to do with you."

He laughed slightly, and my eyes narrowed at the horrific smell that wafted from his mouth as he did. "Too late, Warden. A deal is a deal, and you've fulfilled my end. It's time I gave you your end, as you demanded." He raised the hand that wasn't holding the flaming branch, revealing a pendant on an intricate silver chain. The stone in the setting of the amulet was a deep green, not at all like the mana stone from the elf, but yet it still seemed to be rife with inner turmoil as the energies within ebbed and flowed. He turned his hand slightly, making sure I could see the glint of the stone and chain in the sapphire light of the fiery branch, and then he threw it to the ground.

Immediately a flash of dark emerald light illuminated the area, and I started to raise a hand to shield my eyes from it, only to find my arm unwilling to move. Worried, I tried to move my other arm, and when I failed, I tried to move any of my limbs, failing each time. _A stasis charm_, I realized with a sickening feeling in my stomach. "Remove this enchantment from me, undead!" I cried out, morbidly aware he'd left my neck and head unaffected with his spell, undoubtedly to hear me plead for my life. _I wouldn't have done that before…_

"I don't think so. Removing it would make it difficult to pay you, Warden. I have no doubt you'd flee from me like the broken creature that you are, afraid for your life, afraid of the uncertainty of death."

A single tear sprang unbidden from my eye and ran silently down my face, though I could make no move to wipe it away. "Let me go," I pleaded once more, my modesty thrown to the wind.

"I never renege," the undead man stated simply, as though speaking to a child. He reached behind and drew the sword out of its long sheath, dropping the burning branch finally as he grasped the massive sword in both hands. Giving me a final, broad grin, he walked around behind me, my eyes following as much as my neck would allow, and finally I turned my head back around to face the darkness in the forest. The flame from the branch had finally burned out. "Especially such a valuable deal…to all parties…" he whispered, almost lovingly, into my ear.

An undead hand reached up and rested lightly on my shoulder, almost comfortingly, and then he stroked his fingers down the side of my tear-stained cheek, his rough, icy touch making me shiver slightly. I tried to pull my face away from him, and then closed my eyes as I felt his hand leave my shoulder again.

I heard a swishing of cloth as my cloak fell to the ground, revealing the cunningly crafted armor it had hidden. The undead rapped his knuckles against the thick armor covering my back and murmured approvingly. His hands moved up to my shoulders to unlatch the two sides, and I stood, still frozen, as the armor tumbled from my body and crashed resoundingly into the ground.

I felt a sharp point pressing into my back to the left of my spine, and then in one smooth motion I felt a frigid chill invade my body as the blade slid home.

"Good night, elf."

\--/

_rise, my servant…_

_bear witness to your own rebirth…_

_awaken!_

I lurched forward as I woke up, the voices that had been whispering and cavorting in my mind for untold eternities finally silencing themselves. I let out a long, low moan and hugged my chest with my arms, rocking slowly back and forth on what seemed to be a roughly hewn stone floor.

_I'm dead._

"Undead," a voice echoed through the darkness. I looked up to see the undead bastard who had killed me standing above, a hand extending to help pull me to my feet. I tried to muster the anger to glare venomously at him, but instead I collapsed back onto the floor; tears were beginning to well in my eyes, and my muscles felt deflated…_so cold_.

"Northrend's touch fades in time, Warden, and time is something you now have in abundance once more," the undead said solemnly. He reached down and grasped one of my hands, dragging me up to my feet.

I pulled my hands away from his, recoiling from his fetid, unholy touch. _I'm dead_, I thought numbly again. I closed my eyes as the tears began to silently slide down my cold cheeks and land on the dirty tunic I was garbed in.

"You could be worse off," the undead offered. "My runeblade is not as strong as that of the Dark Prince. You're not fully bound to the power of the Frozen Throne."

_enough…for my purposes…_

My eyes snapped open. _Whose voice…?_ I started to wonder, but immediately answered my own question. "The Lich King," I moaned softly.

"So it is," the undead replied simply, a faint smile on his face. "And he has a task for you to perform. The first of many."

End Chapter 1

\--/

Author's Note: Assuming this doesn't seem absolute trash to all readers, I might endeavor to finish the second chapter that has lain untouched for these past many months. Many thanks to those who've left me good reviews in the past few months. I hadn't forgotten about you. Let's see if you're still as kind to me as you used to be.


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